Saturday began with cloudy skies and relatively warm temps, as I slowly got the gears turning and lumbered out of my tent. I wandered around the campground for a while, fetching water and eating cold oatmeal. I headed to town to check things out in the daylight and figure out what I was going to do that day. The blanket of clouds overhead began to thin and form holes. It was turning into a beautiful day.
Acadia National Park is crisscrossed with carriage roads that pre-date the park when the Rockefellers and other wealthy families used the area as their own personal playground. The carriage roads today, give visitors great access to the park and the beautiful sights. Beginning December 1 though, all the roads in the interior of the park are closed down to allow snowmobiling, leaving the small section of road along the Atlantic Ocean as the only open road in the park. This was the section I wanted to visit.
I’ve been to the ocean in places with beaches – Florida, Southern California, Jamaica, but never witnessed big waves crashing against rock and cliffs like I’ve seen in TV shows and movies about the Pacific Northwest (The Goonies). Acadia provided me with the views I’ve been looking for. The waves may not have been big, but you could still feel the power they hold as they battered the rocks just a few feet in front of me. One slip, overzealous step, or large wave could’ve meant curtains for me. Even with my awareness of the danger the cold waters presented, I danced from rock to rock, trying to find the best view and perfect camera shot (I always thought I possessed great talent to hop around on rocks and boulders). The ocean was not my demise, at least not yet.
I traveled down the coast and found Sand Beach, a rare sight along the Maine coastline. Walking along the beach, I got a little too close and a wave swept up over my shoes. I only wanted to feel the water with my hand, not soak it up with my shoes and socks. Whoops.
I moved onto Thunder Hole where the waves are funneled into a cleft in the cliffs, producing huge spray and the thunder sound. The thunder was quiet for my visit, but I got an idea of what she was like in top form as a few waves launched water into the air. I got talking to a guy named Everett who lived in the area. He liked to walk down to the Thunder Hole and see how it’s acting up on a regular basis. Apparently it can be quite impressive (skip to the last 30 seconds). We talked about the park as he informed me of the history and some neat facts. He pointed to the cliffs just south of us and said they were the highest cliffs along the Atlantic Ocean until you get to Rio de Janeiro. Those are the tidbits I like. I asked him where I could find the Internet in Bar Harbor so I could do a little planning for the rest of my trip. He wasn’t sure, so Everett invited me over to his house. I’m not one to turn down a strangers offer to help, so I gave him a ride back to his place. I found the info I was looking for and we proceeded to talk away the afternoon.
Thunder Hole (The calm before the storm?)
Everett told me a story about how when Martha Stewart bought a house on the island, she wanted to use the phone at the general store but the clerk said the phone was just for employees. Martha said she really needed to use the phone, but the worker would not relent and then Martha busted out the “Do you know who I am?” Martha got a tap on the shoulder and an elderly gentleman said “Ms. Stewart, they don’t let me use the phone either.” It was David Rockefeller.
Everett said I could stay at his house or take a shower if needed, but I passed because I already had a great campsite and had to get up early the next morning if I wanted to catch the sunrise from atop Cadillac Mountain. Before I left, I showed him a few of my pictures because he was a photographer and he was not impressed. I have a lot of work to do if I want to get better at photography.
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